Amazon Women on Damooun
by emergencyfan
Summary: Zelenka and Kavanagh are captured by a tribe of Amazon women and turned into love slaves. McKay and Sheppard have to go to extreme lengths to rescue them. Risqué but not graphic. All in good fun.
1. Something Smells Rotten

Not mine. Don't own'em. Didn't create 'em. Stargate Atlantis and all related characters are the property of MGM and other people who are, unfortunately, not me.

Thanks to nebbyjen and b7-kerravon. I couldn't have written this story without them - more on that at the end. I don't want to give away too many details just yet:-)

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* * *

Amazon Women on Damooun **

He knew it! He knew something smelled rotten the minute he arrived back through the gate…something other than McKay, of course. Sheppard closed his eyes, slowly counting to ten. His instinct that something was off after emerging from the gate had apparently been right on target, confirmed by the fact that Weir greeted them personally on their return. "What do you mean they're 'missing'?" he demanded, wearily slinging off his pack and letting it drop to the floor of the conference room with a thud. The rest of his team began unloading their gear as well. A haz-mat team appeared at McKay's elbow as he handed off his jacket and backpack. They had just returned from yet another fruitless mission of their own to find that team two had 'lost' both Zelenka and Kavanagh. The day had quickly gone from bad to worse.

Weir waved them all to seats, immediately sorry she had done so as it merely wafted the skunk-like odor that seemed to be clinging to Rodney towards her. She had already decided to read the mission report rather than asking an obviously irate McKay what had happened to him. She took a chair as far away from the scientist as possible. The rest of the team followed suit, leaving the scientist by himself at one end of the table. "Stackhouse and Bates said that they just disappeared. They returned to the gate and waited for several hours but the doctors never showed up."

"Where are they now?" Sheppard asked, looking around as if expecting the team to materialize out of the walls. He wanted the opportunity to question them personally.

"They're still on M2J-238 searching. Halling is with them," she said, giving Teyla a nod of acknowledgement. She realized the Athosian seemed distracted. "Teyla?"

"I'm sorry, did you say M2J-238?" asked Teyla, trying to remember where that designation would put the planet in the overall system.

"Yes. He referred to it as Damooun." Weir pulled up a star map so that Teyla could get a better idea of the location of the planet.

There was something odd about the Athosian's expression that made her teammates nervous.

Sheppard joined her in front of the map and frowned. Possibilities were running through his mind of the kinds trouble Kavanagh and Zelenka might find themselves in, assuming they didn't kill each other first. "What is it, Teyla?" he asked.

"We have seldom traded with this planet."

"Why not?" asked Weir. "Stackhouse said it has a thriving trade community."

"I am not certain," replied the Athosian. Searching her memory, she scowled, "My father was uneasy about it for some reason." She shook her head indicating that was all she could recall about it.

"Oh Great," McKay snapped in irritation, thumping his hand on the table in disgust. "Could you be any more vague?"

Weir briefly held her breath in at attempt to avoid the noxious odor Rodney's movements had sent in their direction. "Stackhouse's team will be reporting in again in," she checked her watch, "three hours. That gives you time for a meal and a shower and a nap."

Sheppard tipped his head in McKay's direction as they stood up. "Not necessarily in that order." Rodney narrowed his eyes at him grumpily but said nothing.

Three hours later, Sheppard and his team arrived on M2J-238. They were met by the remaining members of team two and Halling.

"Still no sign?" he asked, but knowing it was unlikely that the missing scientists had suddenly appeared. The sergeant had made his latest report to Weir only ten minutes earlier.

"No, Sir," replied Stackhouse, shifting his P90 slightly. He felt personally responsible for the loss of their teammates. Hell, as team leader, he _was _responsible.

"Alright, where did you last see them?" asked Sheppard, getting down to business.

"In the center of town," he said, leading the way. "It's only about a twenty minute walk from the gate. The place is mostly jungle but they've carved out a nice little area for the market."

Sheppard fell in behind him, McKay at his side. They walked a few minutes in silence before the major began to look around them curiously. "Do you smell something?"

"Like skunk?" McKay said, dangerously. He'd had about all the ribbing he was going to take regarding that little incident.

"No, nothing like that. Sheppard frowned trying to place the odor. It smells…" he paused a moment to sniff the air, "flowery."

McKay turned bright red. "We're on a planet, Major. You know -- trees, grass, _flowers_."

"Oh yeah, guess you're right," replied Sheppard distractedly.

They followed the Sergeant to a teeming marketplace. It was packed with people and vendors in roughly constructed booths with an astonishing variety of goods. Sheppard notice the majority of the traders seemed to be women…attractive women…in low-cut attire. "Your father didn't like it here?" he asked Teyla, surprised.

"No, why?" she asked narrowing her eyes suspiciously, her hands on her hips.

"It...uh… looks like a thriving trade-based community," he said, quickly borrowing Weir's previous description. He felt pretty sure Stackhouse had probably left out the native attire in his report to Weir. A woman walked by in a low-cut green dress and Sheppard's eyes followed her unconsciously for a moment. "I just think it's funny your father avoided such a _bustling_ place." Ford snorted at the pun but fell silent when Teyla's disapproving eyes fell on him.

"My father never did anything without good reason, Major." She said, looking around with a wary expression. "Something's wrong here. I can feel it."


	2. Shanghaied

"The place looks fine to me," Ford said, grinning. "Kinda like something out of Indiana Jones." He gave an amused shake of his head as yet another huckster tried to press his wares on the new arrivals. "No. No, thank you." He continued to elbow his way through the crowd. "All we need is a bunch of guys with big knives and a truck."

"Don't go borrowing trouble!" replied Sheppard. He resisted the urge to clamp his hand on his wallet as Stackhouse led the way through the press of people to the last known location of their missing crewmates. Though it would have been easy for Zelenka and Kavanagh to get lost in a crowd this size, he knew they should have been able to make their way back to the gate long before now. McKay suddenly jumped back with a short high-pitched exclamation, colliding with Sheppard and nearly toppling them both.

"Sorry," murmured the scientist shakily as Sheppard steadied him.

"What's with the girly scream, McKay?" The major glanced around in concern, then saw what had made the scientist jump - a tall, long-haired albino man in a black coat who had suddenly appeared in the crowd in front of him. He gave McKay slap on the back and said in an undertone, "Can you picture the wraith shopping around here? '_Yes, I'd like the creepy tight Goth outfit in black_.' Where do they get their clothes anyway?"

"Do I care?" asked the scientist, still somewhat unsettled. He leaned back against Sheppard in an attempt to avoid physical contact with the albino as he passed within millimeters of them in the dense crowd.

"By the way, McKay, you smell puuurrrty," needled Sheppard into his ear.

"Shut up!" he snapped, jerking away and giving him an irritated look before pushing on through the crowd. They were briefly separated by the crush of people, but as they got closer to the far end of the booths, the crowd began to thin out and they had the opportunity to regroup.

"McKay and I will make a sweep of perimeter. The rest of you try questioning the vendors and customers. Stay within sight of one another at all times." The team split according to the major's instructions. He and McKay headed towards the perimeter. As they got further away from the press of the crowd, Sheppard sniffed loudly and cut his eyes towards the scientist. "Lilacs."

"It's the only thing that would get rid of the skunk smell!" Rodney replied defensively.

"Mmmm…and you just _happened_ to have some perfume lying around?"

"It's not perfume and I borrowed it, okay?"

"From who?"

"None of your damn business." He hiked his new backpack a little higher. The straps were still stiff and cutting into his shoulder painfully.

Sheppard clicked his tongue in a disapproving manner, "Testy testy."

McKay shot him a look of pure venom.

**Meanwhile, elsewhere on the planet…**

Radek awoke to dim light and a dank, musty smell. His head was pounding and his mouth was dry. He hadn't felt this bad since he sampled a shot of doublings made from that mash of alien pink corn and that other weird-shaped purplish grain. Trying to remember what Teyla had called it just made his head hurt more. He remembered waking up the next morning, surprised to find he had slept all night on the cold floor of the empty lab that he had appropriated for some of his more congenial experiments. This was especially worrisome since he hadn't remembered lying down, or much of anything else for that matter, after he'd sampled his brew. He thanked his lucky stars he had woken up at all and had crawled back to his room to nurse his sore head. It was by far the most wicked hangover he had ever experienced. So much so, that he had thrown that entire batch away, burned the recipe, and swore never to experiment with the purple grain again.

This experience, he decided, ranked a close second. He lay quietly on his dirty mound of straw and tried to get his bearings. It looked to be a cell of some sort. Somehow he doubted it would be anything as innocuous as a drunk tank. Groaning he sat up and grabbed his aching head, trying to remember what had brought him to his current condition. The last thing he could recall was an incredibly attractive female at a booth offering him a cool drink. He remembered Sheppard using a term for it once… "mickey" wasn't it? Why Americans named something so unpleasant after a cute cartoon mouse he had no idea. He let go of his head, pleasantly surprised when it didn't explode. Blinking rapidly to clear his fuzzy vision, he soon realized his glasses were missing. A brief panicked dig in the straw yielded them, luckily undamaged. He wiped them on his now dirty shirt and put them on.

A look around revealed he was alone in a cell. It had three very sturdy stone walls, one containing an impossibly high, small window which allowed in a little weak light to filter down. The fourth wall consisted of bars and an iron gate. He rose wobbly and walked over to it. Beside it he found a bowl of water, which he drank greedily. It was warm and tasted a little bitter but he was too thirsty to care. His thirst sated, he looked through his door and across the hall. In the dim light, he could make out an entire line of small cells mirroring his own. He thought he saw a familiar figure in the one directly across from his. "Kavanagh?" he hissed. The figure's head jerked up and looked around. "Kavanagh, over here," he said a little more loudly.

Kavanagh lurched to his feet and stumbled to the bars. "What happened?" he asked thickly.

"I don't know."

They both quieted when the door opened at the end of the hallway and light flooded the cells closest to the door. Men groaned and shielded their faces from the sudden glare that disappeared when a huge man entered the corridor. He was dressed in leather pants and a vest that allowed the enormous amount of hair from his armpits to show. Following closely behind him were three similarly dressed, though less hairy, men carrying chains and what looked like whips.


	3. Used Scientist for Sale, Cheap

Zelenka and Kavanagh plodded along. They were in a long line of other men, chained together in a row, slogging through the jungle. Their jailor called for a break and all the men collapsed onto the ground. Kavanagh leaned away from the sweaty stranger on his right as much as possible but everyone had to sit fairly close together so there was enough slack in their chains for movement. Canteens were passed down the row, each man taking a long swallow before passing it to the next. Kavanagh looked disgustedly at the canteen rim before passing it along to Zelenka without drinking. Zelenka, too thirsty to be fastidious, shrugged and took a long swig before passing it to the next man.

Hairy armpit guy intervened; snatching the canteen and holding it back out to Kavanagh.

"Drink."

"I'm not thirsty," he said, looking away in dismissal.

The huge man leaned down so that his tiny close-set eyes were even with Kavanagh's.

"Drink!"

"Did you ever hear of soap and water? It's a new invention," sneered the long-haired scientist.

Zelenka watched helplessly as armpit guy grabbed Kavanagh by the hair, forced his head back and poured the entire canteen into his mouth. Kavanagh gasped, coughed, sputtered and choked. In the end, it was unclear how much he had actually drunk; but it seemed to satisfy their jailor for the moment.

"You should not antagonize him," said Zelenka quietly once the large man had walked out of earshot.

"The water's drugged."

"I know, but we need to stay hydrated if we are to survive." He indicated the thick jungle growth around them. "Even if we could escape, I do not know my way back to the Stargate, do you?"

"I'm sure I could find it."

"No doubt," agreed the Czech, "However, there is still the small matter of being shackled and the guards. Speaking of the devil…" he stopped talking, having seen that one of the guards was now walking back down the line of prisoners in their direction. A short time later they were jerked to their feet to continue their trek through the jungle.

xxxxxxxxxx

Teyla rejoined the men. "I believe I have found out what has happened to our missing men," she said, pulling them out of the press of people and into a fairly deserted area along side an empty booth. "Men here are also a commodity."

"Excuse me?" asked Stackhouse.

"There is a nearby tribe of warrior women who barter for men."

"What, like slave labor?" asked Ford.

"Sometimes as labor, sometimes for other things." She looked uncomfortable.

"What does that mean?" asked Sheppard.

"The leader is said to keep a harem of men for the entertainment of her court."

McKay began to laugh, "You're kidding, right?" Teyla shook her head at him. "Kavanagh must think he's died and gone to heaven."

"They're no Ali or Tyson, but I can't see them going without a fight," said Ford, worriedly. He knew chances were they would have been on the losing end of any confrontation, especially against experienced opponents.

"Most likely they were drugged, Aiden," said Teyla, reassuring him. "The woman I spoke with said they often use a drug derived from mushrooms to keep the men compliant. They are worth much less if injured."

Ford pursed his lips in disapproval but he knew the Athosian had a point and it did make him feel a little better to know that being a commodity might protect the scientists, at least for a little while.

"Alright. Halling and the rest of team return to Atlantis," said Sheppard. He held up a hand as they began to object. "Fill Weir in and let her know we're continuing the search and then get some rest. If we don't have any leads by tomorrow afternoon, we'll need you fresh so you can rejoin the search." Stackhouse reluctantly agreed with his logic.

xxxxxxxxxx

"That one is pretty but has a sour look about him," said the vizor, absent-mindedly slapping the baton against the outside of her thigh.

"Hmmm, you've always liked long hair," said Queen Gwledig. "What of that one, Hailea?" she asked, pointing to Zelenka. "He seems an odd choice."

"It is rumored he has mechanical ability, my liege."

"Really? Excellent! The generator will not last much longer without proper repairs," said Gwledig. "Very well," she raised her voice for the slavemaster's benefit. "We'll take those three," she said, pointing to several muscular men, "as well as those two," she said, pointing to Kavanagh and Zelenka. "See the treasurer for your payment."

"What?" exclaimed Kavanagh. "You can't do that!"

"Quiet, you," snapped the slavemaster, absently backhanding Kavanagh across the mouth. The outburst had not gone unnoticed. As Gwledig and her vizor approached, the slavemaster took a step back, bowing respectfully. Kavanagh stared at them in defiance, wiping blood from his lip with the back of his hand.

"What did you say?" asked the Queen in a dangerous tone.

"You can't buy me!"

Hailea viciously smacked the backs of Kavanagh's legs with her baton, causing him to fall to his knees. "You will address your new owner as 'mistress' or 'my Queen' is that understood?"

"Bitch!" he gasped.

That earned him several sharp smacks from both the slavemaster's whip and the vizor's baton. When they were done, Kavanagh was on his hands and knees, wheezing in pain but wisely saying nothing more. Gwledig took a few paces to the left to stand in front of Zelenka who prudently kept his eyes lowered.

"He is from the same tribe?" she asked.

"Yes, my Queen," answered the slavemaster. He grabbed Kavanagh by the throat and tucked him under a huge hairy armpit, dragging away the struggling pony-tailed scientist without a second thought.

She eyed Zelenka speculatively. "We have a generator that is broken. I need someone with ability to fix it. Is it true that that you are one with such skills?"

Radek had spent enough time behind the iron curtain to learn when to keep his head down and make the best of things. Antagonizing this woman would only make things worse, not better. He hesitated only a second. "Yes, mistress."

"_He_ at least seems trainable," remarked Gwledig in approval.


	4. The Direct Approach

"Why has the one called Zelenka not yet completed the repair of the power generator?" Gwledig asked, pacing.

"My Queen, he has been otherwise occupied."

The pacing stopped abruptly. "Otherwise occupied?"

"Yes, it seems he is quite popular with the ladies of the court."

"Exactly how many of my ladies have been...distracting...him?" She was surprised when her vizor hesitated. "Hailea?"

"All of them, your majesty."

"All of them?"

"In turns," she assured her.

The Queen/Gwledig was almost speechless with surprise. "In turns?" she exclaimed as she recovered her voice.

Her Vizer had the grace to blush and stare at her feet, as she muttered, almost inaudibly, "Well...mostly... Although there have been some who wanted to...share..."

"Are you included among these distracters?"

"I have found him to be quite skilled, my liege."

"Very well," she mused, "Evenings you may do as you will, but during the day he is to work on the repairs and nothing more. The repairs are of _primary_ importance. Make sure that my court is informed. They have plenty of other toys to keep them occupied. I do not want him so exhausted that he is of no use."

"Yes, my Queen."

"Perhaps we should reduce the amount of Lamella in his food and drink so that he can concentrate better on what he's doing."

"Thank you, my Queen!"

"Concentrate on the _repairs_," she clarified, somewhat annoyed. Her red-faced commander bowed her head in acknowledgement of the reprimand. "No, on second thought, I think he is too new to be trusted without the influence of the drug."

"As you wish, my liege."

xxxxxxxxxx

Teyla, McKay, Ford and Sheppard were on a tree-covered hilltop overlooking the Amazon compound. It had taken them an entire day of hiking though dense jungle to find the hidden valley. Sheppard had his binoculars out, taking stock of the combination palace-stronghold. The high walled garden was topped by a regular interval of spiked metal poles, sure to keep all but the most determined out…or in. The garden grounds themselves were something akin to paradise. Exotic fowl roamed the wide green expanses and flowers and shrubs bloomed everywhere in large clumps of riotous color. All this carved from the middle of an inhospitable jungle.

"Medieval Amazons. Who would have thunk it?" said Sheppard peering through the field binoculars. "This definitely looks like the place," he said as he handed the binoculars to Teyla. He accepted the canteen Ford handed him and took a long swig.

"It's about time," complained McKay, "We've been hiking around through the jungle forever. I…" He suddenly jerked up a pant leg and frantically brushed off something that had been crawling up his leg. Ford quickly stepped back as whatever it was came flying in his direction.

Teyla took advantage of the distraction to continue her conversation with Sheppard. "Yes, it is as it was described to me," she agreed, handing the glasses back to him.

"What now?" asked Ford, a myriad of scenarios running through his mind – most of them involving explosives. He liked all munitions but explosives were definitely his favorites.

Sheppard shook his head at the lieutenant, reading the young man's thoughts like an open book. "We knock," he said, tucking the binoculars into his vest.

"That's a terrible plan," McKay said, still tugging nervously at his pant leg. He quickly abandoned it to slap at something on his neck. "You _are_ kidding, right?"

"Nope." Sheppard pulled out his radio and updated Stackhouse, who had returned to the planet and was standing by at the gate. The sergeant would dial Atlantis and relay the information to Weir, updating her on the situation.

"She's going to want to send backup," warned Ford.

"I know, but anything could be happening to Zelenka and Kavanagh. It took us too long to find this place. I don't want to wait any longer than we already have."

They had only just started down the hill when Weir contacted them herself, obviously having asked Stackhouse to leave the connection to the gate active after he had made his report. Ford was right, she wanted them to wait until she could send backup. Sheppard pretended to have trouble hearing her and blew into the mouthpiece a few times, finally telling her he'd have to try contact her again when there was less interference.

"She's not going to be happy about this," warned McKay.

"Are you certain this is the best way to approach this problem, Major?" asked Teyla. "They enslave men."

"They drug and shanghai _unsuspecting traders_. We're different."

"But..."

"This definitely qualifies as a military matter. Besides, nothing's certain but death and taxes," he quipped as they continued down the hill.

"What are taxes?" she asked.

Sheppard explained them to her, even going so far as to talk about the differences between sales tax and income tax. McKay threw in some information about the Canadian tax structure for good measure. They were approaching the door to the stronghold by the time they had finished.

"Are you sure these 'tax agencies' you speak of are not related in some way to the Wraith?"

"Different life-sucking species altogether," Sheppard assured her as he banged on the large heavy oak door with the side of his fist.

Twelve women dressed in leather appeared on the wall above them. Sheppard, however, was finding them less interesting than what they were holding - twelve cocked and loaded crossbows, which were pointed directly at them.

"Surrender yourselves and your weapons in the name of Queen Gwledig."

"Surrender? We came to you…" he was cut off as one of the crossbolts whizzed past his ear to embed itself in McKay's pack, ripping a large hole in the fabric.

"Damn it, I just got these straps broken in!"


	5. Hell Hath no Fury

Seeing that they were clearly outnumbered, Sheppard ordered his team to give their weapons up without a fight, still hoping to salvage something from the situation. They were led into the building escorted by a troop of armed women and taken to an interior chamber to await an audience with the Queen.

"In hindsight, maybe the direct approach wasn't such a good idea," Sheppard admitted. He knelt obligingly in front of the empty throne at the not-so-gentle urging of his guard's spear tip.

"Really? It's too bad someone didn't say something about that sooner. Oh wait, _I did_!" said McKay as he knelt down, relieved when the guard who was prodding a spear into his lower back eased off. Ford and Teyla followed suit beside them without comment.

McKay took in his surroundings. The room was obviously a formal setting where the queen held her court. The courtiers seemed to be dressed differently than the guards, wearing long flowing cloaks in a variety of headache inducing combinations of violet, green, orange and pink. Looking around, he noticed Ford was staring straight ahead with a strange, almost frightened, look on his face. "What's wrong?" he whispered.

"That woman."

McKay looked around. The whole chamber was lined with women. "Which woman?"

"That one," replied Ford, cutting his eyes to their left and indicating one of the courtiers lining the walls. "She keeps looking at me and licking her lips."

"You're just imagin…oh, now, that's just disturbing," replied McKay, as the woman repeated the performance at Ford's glance.

Their attention was caught as the vizor reentered the room, followed by another woman who took her place on the throne. "You," said Hailea, pointing to Sheppard, McKay and Ford, will address my Queen as 'Mistress'.

She didn't wait for their agreement before turning to her Queen and bowing.

"Explain," demanded the Queen to the guard.

"These men appeared at the front door with weapons. This one," she said, indicating Teyla, "took orders from the man." The Amazon guard was obviously disgusted by the idea.

"We're just looking for our teammates…" began Sheppard. He was cut off by a slap to the back of the head.

"Silence! You will not speak unless spoken to!" said the vizor.

He pressed his lips together angrily but said nothing more.

"What are these," she asked Teyla, holding up their radios.

"A radio. It is a way to communicate."

"Communicate with whom?" she asked, suspiciously.

A plan was fast forming in Teyla's mind. "Our leader, Dr. Elizabeth Weir."

Sheppard began to see where Teyla was going, though he wasn't sure he was entirely happy with the route she was taking. "Teyla," said Sheppard out of the side of his mouth. He tone clearly told her he didn't think this was need-to-know information as far as the Amazons were concerned. It earned him another smack to the back of the head by his attentive guard.

"Ah, of course," said Gwledig. "I see now. I should have realized a warrior such as yourself would not bend your will to that of a mere man." She considered for a moment, then continued, "You may send a message to your Queen and tell her that I am willing to discuss the return of her property," she said, waving her hand to indicate the men. "Proper compensation will be expected, of course." Hailea brought a radio to Teyla who hesitated before offering it to Sheppard.

"It is for Major Shepard to tell our leader of his failure," explained Teyla at the Queen's raised eyebrow.

"Very, well," she said, indicating that the guard should allow him to do so.

He clicked it on. Before he had a chance to say anything, a voice came over the air. "Radio check, Sheppard are you there? Can you hear me?" asked Stackhouse.

"Yeah, reading you. Dial up the gate, I need to talk to Dr. Weir."

"It's already active, Major," came Weir's displeased voice. "I see you got your interference problem fixed."

"Yes, well, seems we got ourselves in a bit of jam here."

"Really?" she asked.

"Does she sound a little pissed to you?" Sheppard asked McKay in a quick aside.

McKay kept his lips clamped tightly shut but his wide-eyed expression clearly said _'Whatever gave you that idea!'_

"Queen Gwledig," said Sheppard, after hitting the send button, "would like to discuss the terms of our release with you."

After her conversation with Elizabeth, the Queen retired to do whatever it was Queens do. Sheppard and his team were hauled to their feet and taken to a nearby chamber. Guards pushed them roughly into the windowless room. One seemed to take particular pleasure in making sure Sheppard landed on his hands and knees. "Who dropped a house on your sister?" he asked under his breath as he stood up and wiped his stinging palms on his pants.

"Are you _trying_ to get us turned into eunuchs?" hissed McKay, shooting a panic-stricken look towards the guards. He breathed a sigh of relief when it became obvious they had not overhead Sheppard's comment.

They didn't have long to wait. Weir arrived within the hour. Sheppard was relieved since such a quick appearance meant that she must have come by jumper and been able to find a landing site fairly close by.

"May I speak with my people?" she asked Hailea as they stood outside the chamber looking at the bedraggled group.

"You have time before your audience with the Queen," she replied, waving the guards aside so that Weir could pass.

"Thank you."

Though the vizor left them alone, the guards standing nearby made it necessary to lower their voices to keep from being overheard.

"I left the puddle jumper cloaked about a quarter mile from here with Markham at the controls," she confirmed.

They discussed several possible scenarios regarding Weir's negotiations. Unsurprisingly, Sheppard wasn't fond of most of her suggestions. She distractedly ran her pendant back and forth on its chain as she took in Sheppard's defiant posture. "Did you know that men aren't allowed weapons? In fact it's normally a death sentence to carry one. Luckily the Queen sees you as my property and therefore, not entirely hers to dispose of. Distasteful as it may be, we need to maintain that illusion for the time being."

Sheppard finally nodded his compliance.

"I hate to say it, but what if the Queen doesn't decide in our favor? No insult intended, Elizabeth, but these people aren't the most reasonable," said McKay

"I've been thinking about that," volunteered Sheppard, quickly filling them in on an alternate plan in case negotiations failed.

Weir looked at him doubtfully. "That plans sounds even worse that the one that got you in this mess in the first place."

"There's a reason why they call it '_Plan B'_. Work your charms on the queen and we won't even have to try it." A commotion at the doorway indicated the return of the vizor and they quickly ended their conversation.

"The Queen is ready to see you now." The prodding of the guards made it clear that Sheppard and the rest of his team were expected to follow Weir into the throne room.

At Weir's brief glance, Sheppard, McKay and Ford kneeled as they had before. Teyla remained standing and slightly behind and to the right of Weir.

"You are Dr. Weir?" asked the Queen.

"Yes, your Highness," Weir acknowledged, bowing her head slightly.

"I understand these men belong to you?"

"I am head of our expedition," she temporized.

"My vizor tells me you sent them to retrieve the ones called Zelenka and Kavanagh?"

"Yes, they are also part of my expedition."

"They have been bought and paid for," said the Queen, making it clear that they were in a different category than the men who were currently kneeling in front of her. "I hope you did not pay much for that one," she said, indicating Sheppard.

"His performance has been disappointing," agreed Weir, shrugging. "We have a saying - never send a man to do a woman's job." She could hear Sheppard grinding his teeth but he kept his eyes downcast and said nothing. "Isn't that right, Major?"

"Yes," he gritted his teeth, "Mistress." He decided she was enjoying this entirely too much.


	6. Negotiations

The negotiations had dragged on for more than an hour and Sheppard began to worry that his knees would never recover. The stone floor was covered by a thickly woven carpet but even that was small comfort. He shifted trying to find a more comfortable position.

"A moment, please," said the Queen.

"Of course," said Weir amiably, her hands clasped behind her back. She took the opportunity to shoot Sheppard a disapproving glance for his fidgeting.

Gwledig motioned to Hailea who leaned in closely. "A compromise with this Weir might be useful. She has many technical people under her command."

"Send the one called Kavanagh back," the vizor said without hesitation

"Are you sure?"

"He is not interested in participating," she said disgusted.

"He prefers boys?"

She shrugged. "Either way, I have no doubt he would make an exceptionally selfish companion."

"Very well." She straightened back up. "Dr. Weir, you may have the Kavanagh back for the price you have offered."

"I am very happy to hear that Your Majesty, thank you. What about Dr. Zelenaka?"

"Ah yes, that is a different matter entirely." She waved her hand indicating the women lining the throne room. "He has become a favorite among my courtiers. I would be risking a riot if I allowed him to leave," she said lightly.

"Really?" said Weir, somewhat surprised. "I had no idea he was so…beloved... by your court. Surely we can work something out?"

Gwledig seemed to pause to consider. Several of the courtiers made small hisses of dismay. "No," she said, making a decision. "I really do not think I can afford to let him go."

"There is nothing I can do to change your mind?"

"No."

Women throughout the room breathed an audible sigh of relief.

"Very well, Your Highness. I accept your gracious offer of Kavanagh. I have left my own people too long and must return soon," she hinted.

"I will have him brought to you immediately. Hailea will show you where you may wait." She waved her hand at her vizor.

"Thank you," said Weir, accepting the dismissal. She sensed that any further argument on Zelenka's behalf would only make the situation worse, and perhaps cause the offer of Kavanagh to be withdrawn as well. Her team had discussed this outcome previously and followed her lead without comment. Bowing slightly from the waist she turned and followed the vizor out of the throne room and back to the room where Sheppard's team had been held originally. The rest of the team filed in behind her. Kavanagh soon appeared, led in by a collar around his neck, meek as a lamb. He was wearing some sort of leather loin cloth but that was his only clothing. His eyes were glazed and he drooled slightly.

"What's wrong with him," asked Weir.

"Aside from the way he's dressed?" asked McKay.

"It is only the Lamella," she said. He is far more pleasant this way, don't you agree?"

"She's got a point," said Sheppard. When Weir shot him an angry look, he added, "Except for the drool."

"We don't drug our people into submission," she said, though she held her outrage firmly in check, well aware they were outnumbered.

"It has caused him no permanent damage," the Hailea assured her. "It will wear completely off within a few days." She bowed to Weir, "Pleasant journey."

Weir responded to the bow with a nod of her head. They were escorted to the front door by the guards and sent on their way.

"So, Plan B then?" asked Sheppard, once they were out of earshot.

"You have a go," agreed Weir.


	7. Plan B

Plan B consisted of McKay and Sheppard breaking off from the group once they reentered the jungle and returning to the stronghold to rescue Zelenka. The major had made sure that Weir, Teyla, Ford and Kavanagh were well on their way to the cloaked jumper before doubling back with McKay. He felt they would be fairly safe with Teyla and Ford to keep guard until they could return with Zelenka. They had waited until the cover of darkness when McKay had jimmied one of the garden gates and a small side door. Lady..or rather, Gentleman luck was on their side and they managed to slip in unnoticed.

"This is like trying to find a needle in a haystack," complained McKay as they stealthily worked their way though the palace. They hugged the wall behind a plant as a tall blonde exited a doorway further up the hall. She paused and leaned back into the room she had just vacated.

"Goodnight, Radek," she said in a throaty contralto voice that left no doubt as to what, or who, had been most recently occupying her time.

Sheppard and McKay exchanged excited glances. They watched as she disappeared around the corner and were just about to move when two more ladies exited from the same doorway.

"Rest well, Radek."

"Pleasant dreams."

"Are you _kidding_ me?" Sheppard asked McKay as they exchanged another glance, this one somewhat disbelieving as the two women also made their way down the corridor. He shook his head as he watched a fourth woman wish the Czech goodnight and make her way down the hall. "One of us is going to have to go in there and get him."

"What if there's more? They'll raise the alarm."

"Good point…" He glanced around, noticing one of the filmy hooded cloaks that the ladies of the court seemed to favor hanging from a hook in a nearby window embrasure. Snapping his fingers in sudden inspiration, "camouflage," he darted over to retrieve it before returning to their hiding place. "This looks to be your size, McKay."

"No! Absolutely not."

"Got a better idea?" Sheppard asked. When McKay didn't volunteer an alternate solution, he suggested, "Odds/Evens?"

McKay gave him an unpleasant look. "Evens."

In unison the two men hit their fists into their palm. "One, two, three."

Odds!" exclaimed Sheppard happily. He handed the cloak to the scientist who donned it with bad grace. He pulled the hood up a little more to conceal McKay's face further and struggled to suppress a smile.

"Shut up!" said McKay. Jerking the cloak out of Sheppard's hand, he walked up to the door and pulled it open a crack. He remained somewhat out of sight in the hallway for a moment before entering. A few seconds later he poked his head back out and gave the all clear.

Sheppard entered and stood stunned for a moment, taking in the mounds of pillows, incense, wine, food…and one apparently sated Czech. "Is he okay?"

"Seems to be," said a bemused McKay.

"Then for Pete's sake, Dr. Z., put some clothes on!" Sheppard exclaimed, throwing a pillow so that it landed in a strategic area. "That's between you and God." The Czech was wearing a beatific smile and little else.

"Disturbing, isn't it," commented McKay dryly. He handed Sheppard a cloak he'd found in the room. "Help me get this on him. He's falling down drunk."

Sheppard picked up the wine and sniffed it. "More likely drugged, like Kavanagh."

"Whatever. He's already made a pass at me. Let's get him out of here."

Sheppard put the goblet back down and helped dress the Czech. He was propping the now modestly, if somewhat strangely, dressed scientist against the wall when another cloak was thrust into his hand.

"Camouflage," McKay reminded him. The scientist did a quick search of the room as Sheppard grimaced in distaste and pulled the filmy beaded cape over his head.

"What are you looking for?"

"His glasses." He stopped dead, hearing voices in the hallway. Luckily the owners continued down the corridor without pausing.

"Forget it, let's get out of here," Sheppard urged, giving Zelenka a shake to wake him from his dozing. "Up and at 'em."

"Wait, I got them!" McKay said, grabbing them off a table and shoving them under the cloak and into a vest pocket for safekeeping.

Properly attired, they made for the corridor. "Come _on_, Radek," said McKay, tugging on the Czech's arm.

He peered at them blurrily. "We do not need to leave. Everything you dream of is here," he said with a lascivious smile and waving his hands as if presenting himself as a prize.

"For the love of….wipe that silly smile off your face and get moving!" exclaimed Sheppard, giving Radek an emphatic shove in the direction of their planned escape.

"Careful, I bruise easily!" he admonished them.

"Yes, yes, you're a delicate peach," quipped Sheppard, shoving them into an alcove as a group of women walked by and disappear around the corner.

McKay yelped, jumping away from the Czech as if he'd been stung.

Zelenka gave a low laugh and arched his eyebrows several times in succession.

"Quiet, you two," warned Sheppard.

"Tell that to Mr. Grabby-hands, here," hissed McKay; careful to stay out of arm's reach of their colleague.

In the meantime Zelenka started walking back the way they came. "Wrong way Casanova," said Sheppard, grabbing the wayward scientist's collar and hauling him back around in the other direction.

"I mustn't keep the mistresses waiting," he said, smiling broadly and waving in the direction the group of women had gone.

"Is he kidding?" McKay asked.

"What do _you_ think?" asked Sheppard. He grabbed one of Zelenka's arms and urged McKay to do the same. "Let's go."

"Ladies, ladies, please! There is enough Radek to share," said the scientist lazily as they hustled him further down the hallway.

Sheppard let go of Zelenka's arm and flattened himself against the wall, peering cautiously around the corner. He jerked his head back, but not in time.

"Stop!" exclaimed a voice down the hall.


	8. Whips and Chains Excite Me

"Uh oh. You're in trooouuuble," volunteered Zelenka. "_Never_ keep the mistresses waiting."

"This way," said Sheppard grabbing Zelenka and crossing the hall to enter a double doored chamber. They shoved Radek in the room and slammed the heavy doors behind them. For a brief moment, nothing happened. The silence, however, was soon punctuated by the sounds of fists beating on the door. Sheppard leaned against the doors in an attempt to keep them closed. Zelenka, oblivious to their plight, began doing a two-finger walk up McKay's arm.

"Now what?" asked McKay, absently giving the hand a sharp slap which only seemed to encourage the Czech.

"I'm washing my hair," yelled Sheppard in a falsetto as he looked around frantically for something to wedge against the doors. The pounding continued unabated.

McKay's gave him an incredulous look. "That's all you got?"

Sheppard winced as the doors bounced against him. "Find something to jam the door, Genius!"

"Like what!"

"I'm not picky!" He yelled, leaning harder against the doors with his shoulder to brace them.

McKay looked around uncertainly. Spying heavy draperies, he jogged over to the massive windows and gave the curtains several hard jerks until he managed to bring one of them down, ducking out of the way as the heavy curtain rod crashed to the floor. He picked it up, quickly working off the rich fabric and ran back to Sheppard. "Here. Will this work?"

"It'll have to do," he replied, shoving the rod between the two vertical rings that made up the door handles.

"Radek," warned McKay jerking his arm away as Zelenka began fingering his sleeve, "Keep your hands to yourself, or so help me God..." he said, giving his fellow scientist a shove away. "Now what?" he asked Sheppard.

"I'm not sure yet. Where are we?" Sheppard asked, looking around and noticing the familiar layout of pillows, incense and wine and…"No!" he said, running over to slap a goblet out of Zelenka's hand. The empty cup rolled across the floor. Wine trailed down Zelenka's mouth and dripped off his chin. "Great! Why weren't you watching him?"

"Me?" exclaimed McKay, picking up a scarf. He grabbed the Czech's chin and started scrubbing at the wine now staining it. "How is this my fault?"

"I was busy with the door. Do I have to do everything around here?" Sheppard asked, grabbing Zelenka's arm and giving the scientist a hard shake as he reached for the still half-filled pitcher of wine. "No, no! Bad!"

"Radek is bad," agreed the Czech solemnly. "You must punish?" he asked hopefully.

Sheppard scrubbed a hand across his face in frustration. "Come on, we need to get out of here. See if you can find a back door or something."

Rodney looked around the well appointed yet small chamber, spreading his hands in dismay. "Where?"

"I don't know!" He looked around noticing the tapestry covered stone walls. "Check behind the hangings, maybe there's another door or something." As McKay did that, Sheppard jogged over to the windows. It was a two story drop to flagstone yard below. He could also see guards pacing nearby. He turned around and let out an exasperated outburst when he noticed Zelenka. "Give me that!" he said, grabbing the pitcher from Zelenka who had apparently reclaimed it while they were searching. He threw it down in frustration. The wine flowed out and disappeared into the floor. Sheppard cocked his head and shot a glance at McKay who had also noticed. They both cautiously approached the quickly disappearing puddle. Sheppard unsheathed his knife and pried at the crack that was now clearly visible, stained red by the wine. Some scraping and additional prizing revealed a trap door set almost invisibly in the stone floor.

"Come on," said Sheppard, sparing a concerned glance toward the door as the curtain rod screeched in protest. Turning on his flashlight, he pointed it into the dark hole, revealing a replica of their current room about fifteen feet below. He swung the flash light around looking for a ladder. "Looks like another 'fun' room. I don't see any way down except to jump. Try to land on something soft," he advised before launching himself off the edge."

"What? Wait! Major?" exclaimed McKay who had been looking at the door, distracted by the pounding.

"It's clear," yelled Sheppard, taking a moment to shed the ridiculous cloak. If they were going to be captured, he didn't want to be dressed in it when it happened. He quickly piled a few more cushion to help break their fall. "Places to go, things to do, McKay," urged Sheppard, waving them down.

"Great." said McKay under his breath. Zelenka was leaning unsteadily over the hole, obviously trying to figure out what had happened to Sheppard. "Here goes nothing." He gave the Czech a push and the scientist promptly disappeared. There was a soft "umph" from below.

"He's clear," yelled Sheppard a few seconds later, shining the light so that McKay would be able to see where to land. He could see McKay hesitating. "Just do it!"

McKay took a deep breath and jumped, landing safely on the cushions below. "What am I, a Niké commercial?" he complained as Sheppard gave him a hand up.

"Dr. Z, what the hell have you been doing here?" asked Sheppard. His mouth dropped open as Zelenka launched into glorious vivid detail.

McKay quickly cut the scientist off. "It was a rhetorical question, Radek. Haven't you ever heard the expression 'a gentleman never tells'?"

"Good point," said the Czech, nodding his head sagely and tapping the side of his nose. He attempted to lean an elbow nonchalantly against a table. Unfortunately the table was about five inches further to the left than he anticipated causing him to crash unceremoniously to the floor.

Sheppard bent down and hugged Radek from behind, pulling him to his feet. "Upsey Daisy." He gave the scientist a quick, rough turn to one side, then the other checking him for injuries. "You're okay, let's move out." They made two lefts and a right, heading towards what he hoped was the exit. Another quick turn brought them up short against a door that would hopefully lead to the outside garden. He felt Zelenka bump into his back and grab frantically at his vest to retain his balance at the sudden stop. He tried the door. "It's locked."

"We could blow it up, yes?" asked Zelenka.

Sheppard ignored him. "See what you can do, McKay." He moved aside to make room for the scientist.

"Big boom, yes?" continued the Czech.

Sheppard shot him a look of pure annoyance that quickly turned to one of stark terror. The Czech was holding a grenade. Sheppard patted his vest already knowing he'd find one of the devices gone. The way it was being held, he couldn't tell if the pin was missing or not. A hard elbow to the ribs got McKay's attention.

"Major, make up your mind! If you want me to open this…" McKay started, as he turned. He trailed off, swallowing hard when he realized their situation.

"Radek," warned Sheppard, squinting his eyes and holding out his hand "give me the grenade." The Czech clutched the grenade closer as if protecting a prize possession. Sheppard thought fast. "I can't blow up the door until you give me the grenade," he coaxed. He felt relief wash over him Zelenka seemed to think that one over and come to a decision beaming. His hopes plummeted as the grenade was tossed high into the air.

"Catch," encouraged the scientist.


	9. The Sweet Smell of Success

The Flying Karamazov Brothers had nothing on Sheppard's and McKay's desperate scramble for the explosive. It was juggled between them briefly before Sheppard finally managed to get a firm grip on it. He was relieved to see the pin was still intact.

"Fun. No?" asked Zelenka, beaming.

"NO!" exclaimed the two sober men simultaneously.

Clutching his heart with one hand, McKay bent back to the doorlock.

"Stand here and don't move!" demanded Sheppard, positioning the Czech to the left of the door. "Any day now, Rodney."

"I'm going as fast…" He was cut off by a click and the heavy door swung open, slamming into Zelenka with a bang before bouncing back. The Czech stood frozen for a moment before keeling over backward.

"That's gonna leave a mark," said Sheppard with sympathy. He bent down and tapped the man on the forehead with his index finger. "Radek?"

The Czech's eyes flutter open. "Major Sheppard? What are you doing here?" True to Sheppard's prediction, there was a bright red mark now covering one side of his face.

John grinned at Rodney in relief. "We're rescuing you."

"Oh." He turned his head and gave McKay a lecherous smile. "I shall have to find a suitable reward."

"For Christ's sake…" began McKay, ripping the cloak off over his head. "It's me you freaking fornicating nut job." He and Sheppard each grabbed an arm, hauling the Czech forcefully to his feet and out the door. Sheppard paused a moment to jam his knife in the door lock before he and McKay began running towards the hill, half dragging Zelenka between them. The light from their flashlights zigzagged crazily in front of them as they headed for the safety of the jumper.

"Dr. Z, you are _so_ going to owe me a bottle of Tylenol when all this is over," said Sheppard, practically carrying the scientist up the hill. They were only a little ahead of the Amazons.

He was extremely relieved a minute later to see Ford waiting for them. He waved them on encouragingly, "This way, Sir."

They all collapsed onto bench seats of the cloaked jumper as Ford hit the control to close the door. Sheppard was more than content to let Markham pilot the jumper home.

xxxxxxxxxx

"How much wine do you think he drank?" Beckett was grilling them about Zelenka's condition while Weir listened, their conversation occasionally punctuated by fits of giggles coming from the corner of the infirmary where Zelenka lay. Kavanagh had been no trouble at all, obeying without response as the nurse settled him into a bed. He had immediately fallen fast asleep. Radek on the other hand…

"I have no idea doc, at least a goblet full; probably a whole heck of a lot more before we found him."

"I see. And how did he come by that bruise on his face?"

"He, umm, I think he ran into a door, didn't he, Rodney?" The tone was innocent but the covert look he shot McKay demanded back up.

"Yes, Major, I…ah…I think you're right." McKay replied and looked slightly panic-stricken when Beckett squinted his eyes at him, obviously skeptical. "It was definitely a door," he confirmed, though not very convincingly. Luckily they were interrupted by a tremendous crash.

"Bloody Hell!" exclaimed Beckett, rushing to Zelenka who was now face down on the floor beside his bed flapping his arms and legs. He rolled the scientist over to discover blood dripping from his nose. "Radek, are you alright?"

"Nouch," exclaimed the bleeding man, though not very emphatically.

"Help me get him back into bed," he called to Sheppard, shaking his head. They took his arms and legs and hoisted him back into bed.

"Wheee!"

Sheppard righted the overturned medical cart as Beckett grabbed a few tissues and put them in Zelenka's hand and put his hand on his nose. "Hold…that…there," he said slowly and clearly, before disappearing into an infirmary cabinet.

When scientist tried to sit up, Sheppard placed one forefinger on his chest. It seemed to completely stymie the Czech's attempt to rise. "No hurry, Doc," he called. "I don't think there's much blood circulating above the waist, if you know what I mean."

"Here," said Beckett, tossing a piece of webbing to Sheppard.

"You want to strap him down?"

"Yes, yes," agreed the Czech eagerly.

"Just one across the middle should do it," Beckett said, taking Zelenka's hand away from his nose so he could check on the bleeding. He watched as Sheppard made short work of the strap. "Turn the buckle so it's under the bed frame. By the time he's sober enough to figure it out; it should be safe for him to get out of bed." He threw the now bloodied tissue into a nearby wastebasket and stood back with his hands on his hips to watch Radek's reaction. He sighed as the scientist's attempts to sit up continued unabated. The Czech seemed at a complete loss to figure out why he was unsuccessful.

"This could go on all night," observed Sheppard.

"I'd sedate him, but I don't really want to add anything else to his system."

"I've got an idea," he said with an evil grin before turning and motioning for Weir and McKay to join them, "Elizabeth, could you come here for a second?"

"Yes?" she inquired. McKay was looking on in amusement as his fellow Mensa member seemed completely unable to negotiate himself into a simple sitting position.

"Try telling Don Juan-incarnate here that it's time for bed," Sheppard suggested.

"John," Weir started to object, giving him an unpleasant look; but she saw the logic in the suggestion. "Radek?"

"Yes, mistress?" he asked, breathily.

"It's time for bed."

"Oh, YES, mistress," said the Czech excitedly.

Sheppard banged his forehead against the wall several times in an attempt to maintain control and McKay turned away, shoulders shaking. She shot a fierce look at Beckett who was suddenly overcome by a fascination with the ceiling.

"I mean it's time to _sleep_, Radek."

"Oh." His face became positively tragic. "If you say so, mistress."

"I do say so, Radek."

He obediently closed his eyes. They popped back open, "Are you sure, mistress? We could…"

"Sleep!" demanded Weir.

Zelenka closed his eyes again, within a few minutes was fast asleep. Sheppard had not uttered a sound during the entire exchange, but was shaking with silent laughter. Weir gave him a deadly look.

The next morning at breakfast, Sheppard was still enjoying his little joke on their leader. "Randy bastard," he chuckled. "Maybe you should have taken him up on his offer."

"One more word, John, and I'll make sure the official report includes a complete description of everything that happened."

McKay swallowed with difficulty, "Everything?"

"Right down to the little purple beads," she assured him, picking up her empty tray and leaving.

"It's not like the poor guy ever gets any on Atlantis," remarked Ford as he tidied up his own tray and prepared to leave.

"He's not the only one," said Sheppard.

McKay was shoving a forkful of something slightly green-gray into his mouth when he suddenly realized whom Sheppard was talking about. "Speak for yourself, Major," he said, slightly irate.

Ford chuckled and decided to leave before things escalated.

"I have no complaints in that area," replied Sheppard, smirking.

Rodney gave him a calculating look as he shoved the last bit of mystery meat into his mouth. He decided not to take the bait. "I think I'll visit Radek in the infirmary before I go back to the lab."

"Picking up some pointers?" Sheppard asked, still trying to get a rise out of the scientist.

"Have you considered that Dr. Zelenka might not have enjoyed the experience as much as you seem to think he did?" asked Teyla, tired of their antics.

"Oh, I think he was having a pretty good time," Sheppard said, hiding a grin by biting into his roll.

"You didn't see him, Teyla," agreed McKay as he stood up. He took his empty tray back to the kitchen area and then made a quick detour to the infirmary where he found Beckett's latest patient awake and reading through a report. Kavanagh, several beds away, snored softly into a puddle of drool on his pillow.

"How do you feel, Radek?"

"Tired."

"Really? I wonder why?" he snorted.

Zelenka responded with a small weak smile. It suddenly occurred him that Teyla might have been right about Zelenka after all. Having been made a prisoner and drugged into a submissive brothel participant might not be all it was cracked up to be without the benefit of a hazy, drug-induced spin on the situation. "Here, I brought you your glasses." He handed the now clean spectacles over.

"_Děkuji vam_," said the scientist, absently settling them on his nose. "Much better," he agreed, immersing himself in the report again.

"Beckett says you'll be out of here tomorrow. I thought we could work on the idea you had about the jumper engines?" McKay sighed when the scientist didn't respond. He watched as Zelenka continued to read, absently bending a paperclip back and forth until it snapped from metal fatigue "Radek? Did you hear me?"

"Rodney, can I ask you something? And you will be honest, yes?"

"Yes, of course," he said, subdued. He was just realizing he was probably the closest thing to a friend Zelenka had here on Atlantis, despite their bickering. Looking around, he leaned closer so the scientist could unburden himself in privacy. "What is it?"

"Why do you smell like Dr. Heightmeyer's bubble bath?" asked the Czech.

"What? Oh. There was this skunk-thing and I…." McKay suddenly stopped, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "Wait a minute, how do _you_ know what Kate's bubble bath smells like?

Radek leaned back in bed, clasping his hands behind his head and smirking. "A gentleman never tells."

* * *

AN: It was Radek's turn for a little R & R, don't you think? 

_**Credits:**_

_Along with being my long-suffering beta'er, Nebbyjen also let me borrow her ideas for the boys in drag as well as the image of Wraith shopping at their local mall's Goth store for tight black outfits :-)_

_B7-kerravon is responsible for giving me the idea for the story in the first place (so blame her, it's all her fault! ;-). Our conversation started out as which Atlantis characters would cross over as "Blake's 7" characters. No one seemed to fit the role of Avon, though I thought Kavanagh was one of the few on Atlantis who had a high enough self-preservation factor. This disintegrated into a mental picture of Kavanagh in Avon's favorite attire - black leather. (Ewe!) Things went quickly downhill from there. She also deserves credit for teaching me the word "vizor" which came in very handy._

_Also, I'm not sure who originally came up with the idea that Zelenka was a revenuer, but thanks to him/her (and Koschka for making it so popular)._

_Last but not least, "Amazon Women on the Moon" is the title of infamously bad sci-fi movie. _

_P.S. Oops, didn't realize Stackhouse didn't have the gene, thanks Patti !_


End file.
